


Gave Up My Dream So You Could Breathe

by leet911



Category: Warrior Nun (TV)
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Powers, Mild Gore, One Shot, Post-Season/Series 01 Finale, Spoilers, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:13:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26891239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leet911/pseuds/leet911
Summary: Camila is driving, Lilith is shouting directions, and Mary is cursing.  But Beatrice is bleeding, and Ava can't make herself breathe.The aftermath of the first season.
Relationships: Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva
Comments: 20
Kudos: 214





	Gave Up My Dream So You Could Breathe

* * *

"Ceremonial halberds, my ass." Mary does not mince her words. She has a long gash down her arm where one of the Swiss Guards had caught her with his parade weapon.

Camila is driving, Lilith is shouting directions, and Mary is cursing. But Beatrice is bleeding, and Ava can't make herself breathe.

They are piled into the van, weaving their way through Vatican City, everyone but Camila in the back. Lilith is trying to bandage Beatrice's wounds. Mary, despite her injury, is trying to help Beatrice too. Neither of them is having an easy time of it, as the vehicle swings side to side whenever Camila swerves to avoid something.

"There's too much blood," Lilith says, "I can't see."

"We need a hospital." Mary is right. Other than Ava, they all need help.

Ava had seen Lilith blasted back by Adriel's power, seen the blood dripping from Lilith's nose and ears. Camila too, is reeling from a blow to the head. She is driving one-handed while trying to keep blood out of her eyes from a forehead wound. Ava knows these things in the abstract, but she is not thinking about them.

Ava is entirely focused on Beatrice. Beatrice’s eyes are closed, her breaths are unsteady, and blood is pooling all too rapidly on the floor of the van. Ava has Beatrice’s head in her lap. She can feel the cold sweat on Beatrice’s brow and the same clamminess under her own clothes. Ava is frozen, because she doesn’t know what to do. Mary and Lilith are the real Sister Warriors, the ones with first aid training. Ava has the halo, but in this moment she feels entirely worthless.

“No pulse.” The words are casual, matter-of-fact, but underneath the steel of Lilith’s demeanor, there is worry creeping into her voice.

Mary starts chest compressions with her one good arm. With each push though, more blood is seeping out from Beatrice’s wounds. Lilith holds the makeshift bandages as tight as she can, but Beatrice’s life continues to drain out.

The next words from Mary bring real dread. "No breathing," Mary says, dead calm. "Come here and press as hard as you can when Lilith counts. You have two hands and I need to do breaths."

Ava has never done CPR before, only seen it on television and in movies. They had never quite made it to that part of her training. Lilith starts counting off right away, without waiting for Ava to get into position. Mary moves up to Beatrice's head and tilts it back on the seat. Ava puts both hands on Beatrice's chest and pushes in time with Lilith's shouts. Each motion just makes the bandages darker, makes Beatrice's torso seem even spongier, scares Ava just a little bit more.

The panic sets in, because despite Lilith's repetitive counting, and Mary's rhythmic breaths, Beatrice is dying. Ava knows it's happening.

There's no visible change, when Beatrice leaves them. She's already not breathing, not moving. Lilith and Mary continue their efforts, but Ava can feel the spirit slipping away. The fear that strikes her is overwhelming, gripping the base of her neck and dripping down her spine.

For a moment, it's as though time is stopped, and Ava can see the souls of those around her. Mary and Camila both burn bright, contrasting with Lilith’s subdued red glow. But Beatrice's light is faint, cold, fading, shrinking down into her chest and leaking out to the ground. So Ava acts without thinking, not knowing how long this moment will last. She remembers promises made, remembers when she learned the dichotomy of Beatrice, her strength and vulnerability. Ava remembers the lingering touches, and almost kisses, and maybe she doesn’t understand what it is she feels, but she knows that Beatrice deserves life more than anyone she’s ever met.

So Ava’s mouth opens in a scream, but there is no sound. There is only an explosion of light, a burst of shattering power channeled straight from the halo into Beatrice. Ava feels like her back is breaking, like the halo is becoming too heavy.

Camila stops the car because the flash is blinding. Mary and Lilith shield their eyes.

Ava collapses. Just before she does though, her own soul pulses powerful, she sees the light fill Beatrice, and Ava knows the light will remain. She slips into unconsciousness, spent.

But Beatrice is breathing again.

* * *

"Her eyes are moving. The doctor said that's a good sign, right?" Camila studies Ava's face. Her eyes are indeed shifting behind the lids, even if they stay closed.

Ava has been comatose for six days, with tubes keeping her fed and watered. They don’t talk about how she’s far too still even though the doctors say she’s alive. They don’t talk about the fact that Ava’s back doesn’t have a perfect circle of scars anymore. Now there is an extra line of scarring that breaks the ring, makes it seem like the halo is cracked. And they definitely do not talk about what that might mean. Not in Ava’s room at least. Beatrice won’t let them voice any of their doubts in this room. What if Ava can hear them?

Outside is a whole other story. Outside, the sister warriors take turns standing guard, getting supplies, and debating their own theories. But Beatrice hears none of it. Beatrice does not leave Ava’s room.

“Why don’t you get some air?” Camila makes the same suggestion every day, hopes that Beatrice will listen just once.

“I can’t leave her alone.”

“I’ll stay.” And Camila is willing, of course. They all are. But they also know that this is as much about Beatrice as it is Ava.

“I can’t leave her alone.” Beatrice repeats. And Camila concedes once more.

The day they arrived at the hospital, they had all been examined of course. A group of injured nuns in the aftermath of an explosion at the Vatican had not been out of place. Mary had needed eleven stitches for her arm; Camila, just three for that cut on her head. Lilith was diagnosed with a minor concussion; and Ava was unconscious, but otherwise fine according to the doctors. Beatrice, however, had been in perfect health. Underneath her torn and bloody clothes, she had been completely uninjured, not even a bruise to show from the battle before. It was smooth unbroken skin all across her abdomen, even where the bullets had ripped into her.

It was a miracle. Camila knows because she remembers the words from the back of the van, remembers the flash from that night. It was a miracle of Ava’s making.

But now they need another one, and they don't know if Ava has any miracles left, so Beatrice sits by the hospital bed and prays.

* * *

Ava wakes like she’s swimming through stone. All around her is darkness, bearing down on her, squeezing, trying to swallow her. She tries to open her eyes, but the darkness is everywhere. She can’t tell if her eyes are open or not. There is only the faint murmuring of distant voices, just outside the threshold of awareness. She strains to hear, but she can’t make out any words at all.

For one terrifying moment she thinks she must be dead, and the last few weeks have been some strange dream. Maybe none of it is true. Maybe she is lying in her bed at the orphanage, still delirious from the drugs Sister Frances injected into her.

But then she thinks of Adriel, and his tomb. Perhaps she depleted the halo while phasing and passed out inside the rock. Perhaps she’s still in there. That’s even scarier though, because that would mean that Beatrice is outside waiting for her. Worried about her.

_Beatrice_ _!_

Ava tries to shout, but her voice is not working. She reaches for her earpiece, but her arms do not respond either. Her memories are coming back though, clearer. She has a vivid memory of a car ride, of her hands slick with blood, of warmth on her back, and power suffusing her.

_Beatrice!_

She needs to know if Beatrice is all right. Because if anything Ava remembers is real, then Beatrice needs to be alive.

* * *

It starts with a twitch, a single finger shaking and brushing against Beatrice’s wrist.

Beatrice bolts upright in the chair where she is dozing. She latches onto Ava’s hand, scrutinizes it for any other motions. It is dark in the room, the hospital lights turned down for the night. Only the moon beyond the window and the indicator lights of the machines illuminate Ava's features.

Her head is moving slowly, like it's shaking. And Ava's eyes stay closed, but under the eyelids, there are frantic movements. The tremor in Ava's hand is repeated. The rest of her remains deathly still though.

Beatrice doesn't think about what the doctors had said about Ava's condition. They don't know about divinium and halos. They only know Ava has a hunk of metal in her back from an old car accident, along with the associated spinal cord damage.

"Ava, I'm here." Beatrice says, her voice raspy with sleep. Then she clears her throat and tries again with confidence she doesn't really feel. "It's me, Beatrice."

She doesn't know if Ava can hear her. She only knows that she made a promise to Ava, and she has every intention of keeping it.

"Just follow my voice. I know you're still in there. I'm waiting for you."

The chair scrapes against the floor as she pulls it closer to the bed. She is squeezing Ava's hand, leaning over Ava's face to see. And Beatrice imagines this was how Ava felt phasing through the wall. This fear of being lost, trapped, cut off from the world, not even knowing which way was out.

So Beatrice whispers in her ear, just like they practiced. "Ava, I'm here. We're not going to leave you alone." Except this time there are no earpieces to hide behind, no _dirra_ of stone obscuring them. This time Beatrice is crying because Ava is right here in front of her, beautiful, and Beatrice knows she can't possibly deserve this

Ava is an angel. Of that Beatrice is certain. But God moves in mysterious ways, and it would be just like Him to take Ava away from them, give Beatrice one more test of faith.

Ava's breaths accelerate, and the beeping of the machines becomes more insistent. Beatrice glances to the door, where she knows Lilith is standing guard outside. She thinks about calling out, or pushing the button for the nurse, but is this wishful thinking?

When she looks back, she is met with wide eyes, relief and terror all at the same time. 

"Ava!" Beatrice gasps, elated. She wraps Ava into a hug without thinking, pressing their faces together.

It's only then that she realizes Ava is crying too, tears dripping down her face. And the first words Ava says are not unexpected, but hearing them still wounds Beatrice to the core.

"I can't move."

* * *

  
  


The first few days, all the sisters are hopeful, even though the doctors say there's nothing they can do. They've compared with Ava's previous medical records, and her nerves are still damaged from the old spinal injury. 

So they wait for the halo to recharge. Ava's never needed this long to recover, but she's also never healed anyone else before either. And while they wait, Ava almost feels like she's back at the orphanage, only with real friends. She misses Diego, but having the sister warriors around means having someone to talk to and joke with all the time. Camila plays music for her, takes requests. Mary brings her whatever food she asks for. Lilith helps braid her hair! And Beatrice never leaves.

Even when the others disappear for various lengths of time, Beatrice remains. So Ava is never alone. She hears them talk in hushed tones about the Halo, about healing and demons and weighty purpose. She knows the others are out there, fighting, looking for answers, but she doesn't have the courage to ask why Beatrice stays. She’s happy though, that Beatrice does.

And maybe that’s selfish, because they don't talk about what they're doing here, or how long they should wait. And Ava wants to believe that if she just doesn’t mention it, the day won’t come, but she knows that’s not true. Ava only knows that Beatrice seems sad sometimes, when she looks at the sky beyond the hospital window and back to Ava.

On days where Beatrice wheels Ava out for some air, Ava drinks in the cool breeze and the sun on her skin. She remembers running on the beach with the wind in her hair. She remembers the feel of sand between her toes and ocean spray on her legs. She wonders if she’ll ever get to feel those things again.

But while she knows she will miss those things, that’s not what Ava’s thinking of. Ava thinks about Beatrice, and treasuring every day they have together. Because no matter what she thinks she wants, Ava knows that if she can’t make herself get up, Beatrice will have to leave. Beatrice is supposed to be chasing Adriel, fighting demons, and Ava is holding her back.

“Beatrice?”

“Yes?”

“How come you’re the only one who never leaves?”

There’s a panoply of expressions on Beatrice’s face, from soft to scared to steadfast, and when she speaks it is hesitant. “Why would you do this, Ava? Risk everything for me? What if the halo is broken forever?”

Maybe they need the halo's power, need the Warrior Nun. Because even when Ava said she was to be the last Warrior Nun, she never thought she would outlast the halo itself. See, Ava remembers loneliness, and fear, and promises. She remembers Beatrice baring her soul and wiping tears from her chin. Beatrice is beautiful. Ava knows this. Beatrice will try to keep her promise. Ava knows this too.

And it’s not that Ava thinks she isn’t deserving. Beatrice has shown them both that she is. It’s that Ava can’t believe Beatrice doesn’t think she’s just as deserving. Maybe Beatrice thinks Ava is owed something, that this wasn’t a gift freely given, that Ava wouldn't choose this again every time if she had to. And maybe Beatrice sees this as a failure, because the demons are still out there, and Ava is here broken, but it didn’t seem right to go on without Beatrice. Ava already got her second chance, got to live her impossible dream, if only for a little while.

“Why don’t you think you’re worth it?” Ava asks in response.

“Because I’m the one who’s supposed to take care of you.”

“Shouldn’t you be out there saving the world instead?”

Beatrice’s voice becomes very small. “But I don’t want to save the world if I can’t save you.”

And maybe Ava doesn't think she needs saving. Maybe Ava just needs to know that Beatrice meant those things that she said back when they were training, that Beatrice _cares_. That Beatrice would care just the same even without the halo and demons and divinium.

“Please come back for me.”

“Always.”

More promises. And Ava doesn’t know how she felt about promises before becoming the Warrior Nun. She didn’t truly know herself before she got the halo. And now, the halo might be broken, but Ava is changed. Ava isn’t afraid of what she wants. Ava wants to hold Beatrice, she just can’t move her arms. Ava wants to be held, to feel Beatrice close, press their lips together and let themselves go.

But she's not able to do any of that, so she squeezes a hand instead, looks up at the nun and burns the image of Sister Beatrice into her mind. Because Ava knows that this is their thing now, and that there's no going back, even if they never talk about it.

* * *


End file.
